some days
i feel like
a rural postal worker
looking for addresses
that don’t exist
only finding
chained dogs
that are half mad
from the heat

other times
i am a poet
spilling my guts
to an empty theatre
wishing for someone
to hear the empty words
as they
tumble out
onto the black
laquered stage

i am both
i am neither
i am the last
qualified
snake oil salesmen
the only remaining
dial up internet provider
the greatest cunnilinguist
on an island
alone

sometimes
i’m just sad
for no reason
those are the times
i dislike most
no grand adventurer
or relic
from out of time
just sad

but i can be
anything